


Scoundrels and Dragons

by Isis



Category: Strange the Dreamer Series - Laini Taylor
Genre: Dragons, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Language, M/M, Post-Canon, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 08:34:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16909656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isis/pseuds/Isis
Summary: It was on Myali that Ruza found the dragons.  Well, they weren’t actuallydragons;their wings were small and stubby, and their necks seemed oddly skinny.  Really, they were only glittering oversized long-necked winged lizards – but Thyon certainly wasn’t going to say that to Ruza.





	Scoundrels and Dragons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fairleigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairleigh/gifts).



> Set after _Muse of Nightmares_ (and contains spoilers for that book). Big thanks to Morbane for beta.

It was on Myali that Ruza found the dragons. Well, they weren’t actually _dragons;_ their wings were small and stubby, and their necks seemed oddly skinny. Really, they were only glittering oversized long-necked winged lizards – but Thyon certainly wasn’t going to say that to Ruza.

Myali was three worlds away from Zeru in the ez-Meliz direction. After leaving Var Elient, they had spent several months in the world called Chokshi on the seraphim’s map, looking for the lost children of Amezrou, now no longer called Weep. It was not an easy task. The people of the settlement near the ez-Meliz portal on Var Elient had been wary of the blue-skinned godspawn; even those who had not been born when Skathis’s business ended knew of the pirates of the Arev Bael. Those who had been, who had flown outworlders across the Devourer to the tezerl-stalk island, were unable to give them much information on the slavers who had bought the children. They shook their heads at the list of names and dates from Skathis’s ledger, then shrugged and pointed to the sky.

Chokshi was a somewhat richer world, and a few of the children had been sold to the wealthiest of people there; not many, but a few. Most had since died, or had subsequently been brought to other worlds, but when they left for Myali they had two more godspawn with them, who had been taken long enough ago that they spoke only the language of the part of Chokshi where they had grown to adulthood.

As a telepath, Kiska was invaluable for communicating with the peoples they met. But the godspawn from Chokshi expressed their firm desire to learn the language of their new family, and that, for the practical reason that it was shared by a majority of the _Astral’s_ crew, was the language spoken in Amezrou. They joined the sessions Suheyla had been giving Thyon, who had given in and applied himself to the serious business of learning it shortly after the _Astral_ began to travel across Var Elient. “If only so that I can understand when you curse at me,” he told Ruza, who laughed.

“I don’t think Suheyla will teach you curses. You should let me teach you.”

“That would be a bad idea, Nero,” Lazlo interjected. “He’d claim that he was teaching you to say _you rotten scoundrel_ , but it would really be, _I love you_ – and then when Ruby set your clothes on fire...”

“I wouldn’t!” said Ruza. He was blushing, just a little, his brown cheeks turning very slightly pink.

“You did,” said Lazlo. He added something in the language of Amezrou. Thyon recognized the word for _tongue_ , but little else. Something about damaging your tongue?

Ruza laughed. “All right! But I couldn’t resist.”

“I’m content to learn from Suheyla,” Thyon had said. Though he’d thought that perhaps he’d ask Lazlo later, if he could bring himself to do so, just exactly how one said...both of those phrases.

Now Thyon stood on the world of Myali. The _Astral_ hung in the distance over a pale ocean, near the cut in the sky that was the portal. From there they’d seen the lush green land in the distance, where Calixte had flown their landing party in the Lady Spider, landing on a black sand beach at the edge of a thick jungle. The jungle carpeted the flanks of a vast extinct volcano, and in that volcano’s caldera, according to the notes Skathis had made, lay a city. The _Astral’s_ crew would visit that city after they’d reconnoitered, and decided on the best approach; for now, they were enjoying the pleasures of land beneath their feet, rather than mesarthium, as they gathered the jungle plants and netted the fish that Kiska had recalled Nova telling them about. They were all pleased for the prospect of new things in their diet – especially Ruby, who delighted in tasting everything and anything as long as it wasn’t kimril – and all excited to be on a new world.

After landing, those who had come on this initial visit split up to explore the beach area in pairs and small groups, mindful of the dangers: Lazlo with Sarai, Sparrow and Ruby with Suheyla, Calixte and Tzara with Feral. Kiska and Werran stood in the shallows netting fish, while Thyon and Ruza investigated a sparkling stream that flowed across the beach to the sea from some spring higher on the mountainside. 

Thyon had paused at the edge of the stream where it came out of the forest, looking at the yellow layer of mineral that had been deposited on the rocks at the stream’s edge. It stank of sulfur, a useful alchemical ingredient. He scraped some of it into a folded bit of paper, to take back to his laboratory on the Astral. But when he’d bent to sniff at the rocks, Ruza had continued uphill, and Thyon had shrugged and waved him on.

He had just put the scrapings he’d taken into his pocket when Ruza reappeared at the edge of the forest. “Come see!” he whispered, beckoning. “You were right! There _are_ dragons! We can settle our bet, now!”

It had made Thyon warm with pleasure. Ruza had remembered what he’d said – that it would be stranger if there _weren’t_ dragons – and remembered their good-natured argument about whose dragon would be faster. It was like a secret thing between them, something that linked them together in a way nobody else could see. Slowly, over the last few months, they had accumulated a number of these links. Sometimes one of the others would say something that reminded them both of a bit of conversation they’d had on Chokshi, or the subterranean library they’d excavated under Amezrou, and their eyes would meet, and they’d smile. Sometimes Thyon thought he had smiled more since they’d left Zeru than he had in all the years before he’d ever come to the Lost City of Weep. 

Over the past months, they’d become friends, and they were dancing around the edges of something more. When they stood together looking through a window to the odd scenery of a foreign world, or sat in the garden on the _Astral_ eating plums, hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder, Thyon felt a sort of peace, as well as a sort of nervous excitement. Was this how Strange felt, when he was with Sarai? For Thyon it was a new world to explore, as much of a new world as Var Elient and Chokshi and Myali, and he wanted to be sure of his welcome when he landed.

Now he looked through the thick foliage and felt Ruza’s excitement. Thyon had followed him uphill along the tumbling stream, through a forest of trees with wide emerald leaves and clusters of hard globular fruits as big as two fists. After one steep climb, the terrain had flattened out, and the stream had likewise spread itself into a small pond. Three “dragons” sunned themselves on the far side. They had not yet noticed the two men lurking behind the trees. 

“We should get the others,” said Thyon, though it warmed his hearts to know that Ruza had come to tell him first, to show him first. 

“Everyone’s gone on their own explorations,” said Ruza. “The dragons might fly off by the time we got back, and then we’d have nothing to show them.”

“You think they can fly, on those wings? Not that I’m doubting you. Do they breathe fire, too?”

“I watched them fly here. I didn’t see them breathe fire, though.”

“That’s Ruby’s job, anyway,” said Thyon. “Wait, what are you doing?”

Ruza had started to creep out from their cover. He looked like a hunting cat, stalking from one shadow to the next, then springing across the stream with one easy stride. 

“You shouldn’t be going so close to them,” Thyon hissed, trying to balance his alarm with the need to keep quiet and not alert the lizard-things. Or anything, or anyone else – who knew what else was in this forest? Belatedly he realized that they probably shouldn’t have gone into the jungle without telling anybody where they were going. 

In reply, Ruza crooked a finger, his expression very clearly saying _What are you waiting for?_

Thyon sighed and began picking his way over to where Ruza stood. He was sure he looked nothing like a hunting cat. When he reached the stream it seemed awfully wide; how had Ruza leaped across? There were a few rocks in the water, which seemed like a safer way to go, so he carefully stepped out to the first, then the second – which shifted under his feet, sending his left foot into the water. The cold water startled a small cry out of him, though it was shallow, barely over his ankle, and he quickly took the last step to the shore. But now his foot was wet and, he thought dismally, Ruza would probably make fun of him for being so clumsy.

He looked over to Ruza. He was not laughing. He was not even looking in his direction. His eyes were on the dragons, and _their_ eyes...oh, no. All of the dragons were looking at Thyon. They must have heard the noise he’d made when his foot slipped into the water.

_They’re not really dragons. They’re big lizards. Very big lizards._

He wished he had a sword, not that he’d know what to do with one. Between the Tizerkane warriors’ legendary fighting skills and the powers the godspawn wielded, there hadn’t seemed to be any reason for an alchemist to learn to fight. It would be as ridiculous as Calixte working in his laboratory. That’s why Ruby had gone with Sparrow and Suheyla to collect plants, why he and Ruza had set out together. If anything threatened them, Ruza would defend him. 

_And then never let me hear the end of it._

Twigs snapped and broke as the nearest of the dragons took a few steps toward him. It was the largest, too, with golden scales shimmering in the filtered sunlight. The other dragons followed, swinging their heads from side to side on their long necks as though they were sensing their surroundings. A low hissing noise began to fill the air.

“Stay back,” murmured Ruza, his voice tight. Thyon felt a moment’s annoyance – did Ruza think he was planning on running up and petting that big golden one on the snout? But he was reassured to see Ruza smoothly and casually shift his hand so that it came to rest on the hilt of his sword. Thyon knew he could draw it astonishingly fast.

The lead dragon took another step in his direction, and Thyon could swear it was looking right at him. It was not a friendly look. Its wings were extended a little to each side, as though to make it look bigger. It put Thyon in mind of an angry cat, its fur puffed out in warning. Even its hissing was catlike.

The dragon reared, and Thyon instinctively jumped back, ducking, just as Ruza stood tall, drew his sword, and yelled, “Hey!” In an instant, the dragon’s long neck whipped around and came to bear on Ruza.

It turned out they could, after all, breathe fire.

Ruza yelled again, jumping to the side as he slashed at the dragon’s flank. Though he escaped the main force of the blast, flames engulfed his left side, and his scream changed to one of pain as he dropped to the ground. 

For a moment, Thyon froze in place, horrified. Ruza was moaning, and he wasn’t moving. The dragon’s huge head bent down toward his fallen body. 

_I should have learned to use a sword, after all._

Desperately, Thyon tried to think of something he could do to help. But his skills were all things he did in his laboratory – creating solvents, transmuting metals. He didn’t know how to battle a lizard, let alone a dragon. 

All those years in Zosma, working to discover the secrets of alchemy, Thyon had relied on his intelligence and his diligence to succeed. But ever since Strange had begun to unravel the mystery of Weep, Thyon had learned that things often went better when he listened to his hearts instead. And his hearts insisted that he fight, even if he had to improvise. Ruza was still alive. Thyon had to do what he could to protect him – to protect them both.

He reached out toward the nearest trees and grabbed a fruit in each hand. They had hard, shiny husks, more like nuts than like fruits, and their heft felt reassuringly solid. 

“Hey!” he shouted, trying for the same tone of voice Ruza had used. The dragon’s head swiveled toward him. _Good_. 

Thyon threw the two fruits, one after the other. The dragon’s broad side was an easy target, and both connected, bouncing off its hide and scattering glittering scales in their wake. It took a step away from Ruza as Thyon grabbed two more fruits and threw those as well. By some fortunate chance, the dragon had turned at exactly the right time – or the wrong time, from its perspective – and the last fruit he threw hit the dragon solidly on the snout.

The two smaller dragons were no longer hissing. One of them nuzzled at the flank of the big golden dragon, who had stopped moving. Thyon plucked two more fruits, but as he raised his arm to throw another, the golden dragon backed up, causing the other dragons to move back as well. The dragon looked at him for one long, terrifying moment; then it stretched out its wings and sprang into the air, flapping its wings heavily to gain altitude as it circled across the pond. The smaller ones followed.

“Was that a … dragon?” came Feral’s voice, full of wonder, as the last launched itself into the air. He spoke in the language of Amezrou, but Ruza had taught Thyon a few words that were not in his regular language classes – though he’d checked with Suheyla before actually using any of them – and one of them, of course, had been the word for _dragon_.

Tzara leaped across the stream and took in the situation at a glance. “Ruza! Are you all right?” She was followed by Calixte, and they both hurried to his side. 

Thyon felt dazed. Only a moment ago, it seemed, he’d been standing next to Ruza, peering through the undergrowth at the shiny creatures. He dropped the fruits from his hands and quickly moved to where Tzara was fussing over Ruza, dipping leaves in the water and wrapping them gently around Ruza’s singed left side. Feral crossed the stream and came up behind him. “We heard you yelling. What happened?”

“There were dragons,” Thyon said briefly, then crouched at Ruza’s right, undamaged side. Ruza was breathing quickly, shallowly, his jaw clenched against the pain. Thyon took his right hand, lacing their fingers together. “It was my fault,” he said softly, fixing his eyes on Ruza’s. “I’m sorry.”

Ruza squeezed his hand. “You saved me, you idiot.” His voice was raspy and harsh, forced out through tight lips.

“It wouldn’t have attacked if I hadn’t been so clumsy.”

“I shouldn’t have,” started Ruza, and then began coughing. Thyon helped him to drink a sip of water from his canteen.

“Easy, Ruza,” said Tzara. She looked at Thyon, dark eyes sympathetic. “We’ll carry him back down to the ship, and Sparrow can heal him.”

Calixte grinned. “And you two can kiss and make up.”

“We’re not fighting.” Though it wasn’t as though she ever listened to anything he said, even if her japes had become less barbed and more good-natured over the past months. 

“You can kiss him anyway. Come on, help me.” Tzara and Feral had grasped each other’s wrists, forming a sort of seat with their hands, and together Thyon and Calixte lifted a groaning Ruza, who finally let go of Thyon’s hand so he could steady himself on Feral’s shoulder. 

“I’d like that,” gasped Ruza. His face had gone white, and although they’d taken care to avoid his leaf-wrapped burns, he winced at every motion.

Calixte ran ahead to find and alert Sparrow. Tzara and Feral carefully carried Ruza across the stream and down the rocky path back to the beach. Thyon followed, wading through the water. His left foot was already wet; it didn’t matter that his right one got wet, too. He was too busy listening to every groan Ruza made and hoping that Tzara and Feral wouldn’t slip on a rock. There was no room in his thoughts for any concern about his feet squelching in his boots.

When they got to the beach, Suheyla and Sparrow were waiting by the Lady Spider with Calixte. Sparrow was pacing back and forth on the sand, and when she saw Ruza her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh! Oh, let me –”

“Let’s get him inside,” said Tzara. Ruza’s eyes were closed and he was breathing shallowly, with occasional pained gasps that made Thyon want to reach out and make it better, even though he knew there was nothing he could do. He didn’t have Sparrow’s ability to make things heal and grow and live. He didn’t have any ability at all, other than his alchemy, and that wasn’t really a power, not in the same way that godspawn had powers. 

It would have been nice to have powers, but oddly, Thyon found he didn’t really mind that he didn’t. His old self, with his old self’s pride and ambition, would have been apoplectic to have seen the future: if he’d learned somehow that the librarian Strange, who had given him the book that had set him on his path, would have become the Lost City’s savior, with vast and terrifying powers; and that Thyon himself, the golden godson, would be relegated to a supporting role. But that old Thyon was gone, and the new Thyon found that he did not miss him. That old Thyon would not have been willing to climb aboard a ship made of shining blue godsmetal to fly through a rift in the sky to discover worlds outside Zeru. He would not have been the one with whom Ruza chose to share his discovery of dragons.

It seemed to him that Sparrow worked her magic effortlessly, but when she was finished, she sagged against the mesarthium wall of the ship and closed her eyes. “I think – I think I’d like to go back to the _Astral_ ,” she said.

“I should go as well,” said Ruza. His blackened skin was already beginning to crack and fall off, revealing the new shiny skin underneath that Sparrow had encouraged to form. It was paler than the rest of his skin, almost pink, giving him a patchwork look. “I’m tired.”

“Well, no wonder,” said Suheyla.

“I’ll go too,” said Thyon. “Someone needs to keep an eye on Ruza.”

Calixte grinned. “An eye, or something else?” She dodged Thyon’s half-hearted swipe. “Let’s go, then. The sooner I fly you back to the Astral, the sooner we can get back to exploring.”

“Be careful of the dragons,” Thyon warned.

“We get to be the first to ride them,” Ruza murmured. Thyon put his hand carefully on his undamaged shoulder, gave it a gentle squeeze.

“If anyone rides them, it will be you,” Tzara promised.

In the _Astral_ , Suheyla went to her kitchen shelves and took down a pot of homemade salve, handing it to Thyon. He sniffed it: honey and sweet herbs, some he recognized from their alchemical uses, and others he did not. “Rub off the burned skin gently with a moistened cloth, then apply this,” she instructed.

He didn’t question her assigning the task to him rather than doing it herself. Obviously it would be easier with two good hands, and of course he and Ruza were close friends. But somehow, when he was back in Ruza’s room, helping him to take off the ruins of his clothing, he felt weirdly nervous. Thyon spread an old sheet on a low mesarthium bench, and grimacing, Ruza sat. When he moved his left arm, the cracked, burned skin came off in large ragged pieces along with the leather and fabric. 

“Does it hurt?”

“Not as much as it did,” was all Ruza said, through clenched teeth. Looking at the extent of the burns, Thyon was amazed he’d kept his noises to mere whimpers. 

Thyon was as careful as he could be, but he couldn’t keep himself from noticing that what he was doing, basically, was _taking off Ruza’s clothes_. Sure, it was something he’d thought about – fantasized about – but it had been a bit different in his dreams! When he’d freed Ruza’s left arm and the left side of his torso, Ruza shrugged off the rest of his shirt, letting the rags drop to the floor. As he worked on Ruza’s left leg he was painfully aware that his trousers would have to come off as well. And then Ruza would be naked, and Thyon would be stroking the balm onto his bare skin…

He felt his cheeks go hot as the last of what was left of Ruza’s trousers came off. He wasn’t going to look. No, he was just going to kneel here, next to the bench, and concentrate on applying Suheyla’s salve to the pink stripe of new skin along Ruza’s hip and thigh. 

Ruza groaned. “Ugh, I look like I was put together from spare parts.”

“The new skin will darken to look like the old,” said Thyon. “I know, I’ve burned myself countless times in my laboratory. Nothing as bad as this, but I’m sure it will heal the same.”

“But that will take time. And meanwhile, I will be even uglier than usual, and nobody will want to kiss me.” He sighed theatrically, which made Thyon laugh.

“I’m so sorry. I forgot we were supposed to kiss and make up. Calixte will have my head.” He smoothed his hands against Ruza’s leg one more time – the burned skin had flaked off entirely, and now it was all shiny and smooth, glistening with the oily honey balm – and looked up. Ruza’s dark eyes were uncharacteristically serious. He looked as nervous as Thyon felt.

“Well, then,” said Ruza, in a low, rough voice. “We certainly don’t dare to offend Calixte.”

“Well, then,” Thyon echoed. He wiped off the excess salve on a corner of the old sheet, then got to his feet and held out his hand. Ruza stood, took Thyon’s hand, and lifted his chin. That was as clear an invitation as Thyon was going to get, so he swallowed once, stepped closer, and pressed his mouth firmly to Ruza’s.

It was strange and it was awkward and it was wonderful. Ruza’s lips opened under his, and his arms wrapped around Thyon’s waist, and Thyon’s nose was filled with the scent of the singed edges of Ruza’s hair and the honey and herbs on his skin. The bit of stubble on Ruza’s chin scraped at Thyon’s smooth face, and somehow that set his hearts racing, his spirit flowing through his veins, down his spine and into...well. 

_So_ this _is what_ _desire_ _feels like_ _._

“Why didn’t we do this a long time ago?” said Thyon, after a while. He trailed a hand down Ruza’s muscular back.

Ruza made a small shrug. “I don’t know. I wanted to. But being here is like living in a very small town. It seemed to me that things could get awkward.”

Thyon nodded. During the time they’d been on the _Astral_ , Ruby and Feral had gone through several turbulent break-ups and subsequent get-togethers. When their relationship was in the break-up phase, any time they were in the same room the air around them almost crackled with unpleasantness. “I agree. I wanted to be sure. It seems silly now, to say that.”

“Not silly at all! Can you imagine having to eat breakfast across the table from someone you didn’t even want to talk to?”

“We’ve been eating breakfast across the table from each other for a while,” observed Thyon. “I’d hate to have to stop doing that because of – awkwardness.”

“You and I, we have already been through that awkwardness! But now that you are no longer _faranji_ , I quite like you. And I think we should kiss some more. It makes the burns feel better, you know.”

“Well, in that case,” said Thyon. “I’m happy to assist with your recovery.”

They kissed again. After another long moment, Ruza pulled away slightly. “It would be better if you took off your clothes, too.” 

“I – I’ll take your word for it.” His fingers seemed uncharacteristically clumsy as he undid the buttons and clasps, pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it to the bench. He was about to turn away, so that Ruza wouldn’t see the way his body was reacting to their kiss, but then realized how ridiculous he was being. Ruza was clearly similarly affected, and yet he stood there with his legs planted as though he were fighting a charging bear – a charging _dragon_ – and a half-smile on his lips. 

Thyon’s trousers fell to the ground, and he stepped out of them. Now he was as bare as Ruza. “I don’t have much experience with these things.”

“Don’t tell me that was your first kiss,” scoffed Ruza. “Not someone as shining and golden as you are. You must have had every girl in Zosma, and half the boys, too.”

“I didn’t have time for girls, I was too busy in my laboratory. And as for boys, they don’t do that sort of thing in Zosma. They’d be scandalized to see us together.”

“Then they’re the ones missing out. Does it bother you?”

Thyon reached out and pulled Ruza close. “Not in the least.”

It turned out that Ruza had been right. It _was_ better without clothes.

He had been stroking his hands across Ruza’s bare skin earlier, but it was a completely different thing, now. It was no longer a matter of soothing burns. Now, as he tasted Ruza’s mouth, Thyon brushed his fingers across Ruza’s hip for no other reason than the pure pleasure it gave both of them. And Ruza’s hands were now on his own skin, touching, stroking, caressing. Every bit of him crackled with sensation. It was as though the same spirit pumped through both of their bodies, passing through their skin to each other, warming them, exciting them both.

Ruza wrapped his fingers around Thyon’s hand and tugged, pulling him toward the bed. “It’s even better when we don’t have to pay attention to staying on our feet.”

“You’ve got salve all over you,” objected Thyon. “We’ll make a mess.”

Ruza grinned wickedly. “That’s the idea.”

Thyon made Ruza lie on his right side, so as to keep the salve away from the sheets; but then all the places that were easy for him to touch were where Ruza had been burned, and he didn’t want to hurt him. Finally Ruza huffed in exasperation. “Sparrow healed me. You don’t have to treat me as though I were made of glass.”

“Your skin was black and smoking,” said Thyon. “You let out an awful scream.”

Ruza took Thyon’s hand and placed it firmly on his left hip, then slid close, so they were touching from chest to toe and everywhere in between. “Eril-Fane and Azareen were _dead_ , Thyon, and Sparrow brought them back to life. Don’t you think she can handle a little burn?”

“It wasn’t a _little_ –” he began, but Ruza stopped his words with his own mouth, and it was much easier and much nicer to kiss Ruza than to argue with him. Ruza’s hands traveled down his chest, traced the jutting curves of his hipbones. Dipped lower. Ruza’s leg angled across his, hooking the back of his knee, pulling him even closer. Thyon forgot to worry about Ruza’s new skin. He forgot to think about anything other than how good Ruza’s rough palm felt when he finally reached between their bodies, or how thrillingly Ruza’s moan sounded in his ear when Thyon did the same to him.

“I told you we’d make a mess,” said Thyon later. He closed his eyes and lay back against the pillow. 

“You did. And didn’t we make a lovely one? I supposed you’d better clean it up. After all, I’m injured.”

“Didn’t you tell me you were completely healed? Anyway, I’m tired, and it’s _your_ room.”

“Maybe you should share it with me now,” murmured Ruza into his neck. “You dirty scoundrel.” 

Startled, Thyon opened his eyes and looked at him. Ruza was gazing at Thyon with the same intensity he had just before they’d kissed for the fist time. “ _What_ did you say?”

“You. Dirty. Scoundrel.”

“Tell me,” said Thyon. His hearts were pounding. Did Ruza remember…? He must, decided Thyon. He had remembered the dragons, after all. “How do you say that in the language of Amezrou?”

Ruza smiled and nodded, then slowly pronounced the soft, liquid syllables. Thyon repeated them back.

“Very good,” said Ruza. He sighed and closed his eyes. “We can clean up in the morning.”

“All right,” said Thyon. He kissed Ruza’s forehead. “Sleep well, you dirty scoundrel.” Closing his own eyes, he curled his body around Ruza’s. Soon he was fast asleep. He dreamed of dragons.


End file.
